And To All a Good Night
by HPLives
Summary: Oneshot. PostDH. Ron and Hermione spend a normal Christmas Eve together with their new family, but what surprises lie in store? RHr with HG on the side. Please read and review!


_I had originally posted this a while ago, around Thanksgiving time, but it's reposted now in time for the holidays! I hope you enjoy it, and Merry (belated) Christmas to all!_

Disclaimer: I don't own anything about HP. Period.

* * *

"…_But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight, 'Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night.'_ Okay, you've had your story, Rosie. Will you go to sleep now?" said a very exhausted Ron Weasley to his little daughter on Christmas Eve. 

"No! More!" Rose exclaimed happily as she bounced around on her bed. She seemed to have inherited her father's stubbornness.

"Come on, Rosie," Ron pleaded, trying to tuck her back under the sheets. "Look, Hugo's already asleep."

"He's so little, it's easy for him!" Rose said while struggling to get away from Ron's grip. She spoke in a voice that reminded Ron strongly of her mother.

"He's only a year younger than you," Ron stated with a sigh, still trying to put Rose to bed. When she continued to kick the covers off, Ron told Rose, "You know, Father Christmas won't come tonight if you don't go to sleep!"

Rose's face fell. She looked at her father with her dark brown eyes and whispered, "Really?"

"Yes," Ron said gratefully, glad that this tactic had worked. "Now, go to sleep and when you wake up, you'll have lots of presents!"

"Alright, I'll try," Rose conceded. She allowed Ron to place her in the bed and cover her up.

"Goodnight, Rosie." Ron kissed her on her forehead.

"'Night, Daddy."

Ron turned off the lamp next to Rose's bed, and within seconds, she was sleeping soundly. Taking out his wand, Ron flicked it and closed the curtains on the window. He stowed it back in his shirt pocket and checked on his son. Hugo was curled on his side in his crib, thumb in mouth, slumbering peacefully. Ron stroked his wispy brown hair that he had gotten from Hermione.

"Just be glad that it isn't as frizzy," he told Hugo, smiling. The little boy grunted in his sleep and rolled over.

"He's not even a year old yet, it may get frizzier once he gets older," came Hermione's amused voice from the doorway. Ron spun around and smiled once he saw his wife.

"I see you're home," he said, striding over to kiss her. They had been together for nearly seven years, two of those years as a married couple, but kissing Hermione never was any less thrilling for Ron.

"Yes, sorry I was so late," Hermione said after she pulled away from Ron's lips. She talked as she walked to their room and started to change out of her day clothes, Ron trotting along in her wake. "I'm on the verge of going from the Department of International Magical Cooperation to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, so they keep me at the Ministry for hours on end." She took a breath. "But I was able to clear up that misunderstanding between the Prime Minister and that warlock from Belgium who asked him where he needed to go to obtain the paperwork for Dragon Transportation licenses. Do you think you could help me with this zipper?" Hermione asked suddenly, holding up her hair.

"Ron?" Hermione said again a few moments later when Ron did not respond. She looked over her shoulder at her dazed husband: Ron had been standing silently behind Hermione, listening to her story and watching her change into her nightclothes.

"Thanks," she said, chuckling lightly, once Ron had come out of his dreamlike state and unzipped her dress for her. "Anyway, where was I? Oh, the licenses. The poor man nearly fainted when he heard that! Well, all we needed was a few Obliviators and a translator, and everything sort of worked itself out in the end."

She removed her bra and, seeing Hermione's perfectly rounded chest, Ron was unable to resist touching her. He seized Hermione close to his body and kissed her again, this time more passionately. She tensed a little in surprise at first, but eventually relaxed in his arms.

"I can't believe how I ended up with you," Ron told Hermione in between kisses. She made to respond, but was cut off by his lips on hers once more.

They moved as one back to their bed, and Hermione detached herself from Ron in order to lie down. She beckoned him to lie next to her, and they returned to kissing, among other things...

* * *

Another hour later, Hermione was snuggled up against Ron's chest, breathing in his scent. 

"So," she said, completely serene, "I've told you about my day, what did you do?"

When Ron responded, Hermione could feel the vibrations of his voice echo against her ear.

"Well, first, I stopped by the shop to see George," Ron said. "I brought Rose and Hugo along, too; he hasn't seen them in so long. Then, I went to go visit Harry at the Auror Department, and he seemed all right ─ did you know I might be getting a promotion soon?" His voice perked up; it was clear that he had been bursting to tell her this information. "That is, once I can spare the time," he added, his enthusiasm wilting slightly as he gestured to the room where Rose and Hugo were sleeping.

Hermione hoisted herself up to look into Ron's sapphire eyes and exclaimed, "Oh, that's wonderful!" She hugged him tightly.

After she released him, she could see a look of uncertainty in his eyes.

"What?" she questioned, furrowing her brows together. That expression of self-doubt was all too familiar to her on Ron's face. "You don't think you deserve a promotion?"

His countenance was all the confirmation she needed to know his response.

"Ron," she said, shifting into her confidence-boosting mode, "you have done so much for the fight against Voldemort, how can you think that you don't deserve to be at the head of the Auror Department?"

He shrugged noncommittally, and this time, Hermione got angry.

"Honestly, Ron," she said, "you have to stop putting yourself down!" Realizing she was raising her voice, and remembering her sleeping children in the other room, Hermione quieted. "You are so incredibly talented, and I wish you could see that!"

"I do," whispered Ron emphatically, "but growing up with so many siblings, and having them overshadow me all my life, it's really…" he paused to think of a word that befitted his feelings, "_strange_ to be praised as the best of them!"

"But why?" she questioned, genuinely concerned, as she was about everything having to do with Ron. "You can't tell me that, after all these years ─ during which you facilitated the defeat of the most powerful and blood-thirsty wizard of all time, helped to restore the Ministry to its former glory, and acquired one of the most prestigious jobs that is possible in the Wizarding world, save from the Minister himself ─ you still feel inadequate?"

Ron blushed of flattery and embarrassment and said in a small voice with a half-glance at Hermione, "As long as we're listing the things I feel inadequate about, there's one you missed."

Hermione was puzzled for a little while, until the truth hit her like a runaway train. She took a deep breath and placed her hand gently on Ron's arm.

"Ron," she told him comfortingly, "you know that I love you and you _know_," she turned his face towards her, "that there's no one out there for me besides you."

She smiled, and so did Ron, his former look of discomfiture sliding off his face as he leaned in to kiss Hermione soundly.

When they finally separated, Hermione took Ron's hand and continued their earlier conversation.

"So, what did you and the kids do after you got away from the Ministry?"

"We did a little Christmas shopping down at Diagon Alley," Ron said, his relief and calmness showing in the way he spoke. "Got some presents for Harry and Ginny, and their two little bundles of joy."

Hermione snickered: three-year-old James was far from a 'bundle of joy.' He took after his father far more than Harry realized. Hearing Ron mention Ginny's name had sparked something in Hermione's memory that the redhead had told her earlier that day.

"Did you know that Ginny's pregnant?" she asked excitedly.

"Harry's got her knocked up _again_?" said Ron incredulously, shaking his head. "If that boy doesn't slow down, he's going to have more kids than my parents!"

Hermione laughed, and Ron grinned, glad that he could make her so happy. He squeezed her hand tightly, and she snuggled closer to him under the covers.

"Anyway," Ron continued after putting an arm around Hermione's shoulders, "we got home around four in the afternoon, and I fed Hugo and put him down for his nap about thirty minutes later. Then," he said, exhaling a large breath, "Rose thought it would be _funny_ to play with Daddy's wand ─"

"What did she do?"

Ron chortled grimly. "Oh, the usual," he said wearily, "made some sparks shoot out the end, move some of her stuffed animals around. But _today_, she managed to find a _spider_, of all things, and she somehow Engorged it to three times its normal size." He shuddered from the memory of finding the enormous spider on the floor next to little Rose.

"And what did you do?" said Hermione, trying unsuccessfully to stifle her laughter.

"Well, first, I screamed," Ron said, and at this point, Hermione laughed out loud. Ron chose to ignore this and continued, "and then, I was able to inch around the room, get my wand away from Rose before she could make that _thing_ any bigger, and Reduce that nasty ─"

"Language, Ron," Hermione reprimanded through her raucous giggles.

"I wasn't going to!" he lied forcefully, blowing his cover with a loud laugh.

Once they had both regained their composure, Ron spoke again, saying, "After that lovely incident, Hugo woke up, and I decided to make them dinner ─"

"What did you make?"

"If you keep interrupting me," he said, "I'll never finished my story! But, if you must know, I made them some of that Instant Baby Food kit we got at Hugo's baby shower ─ which is actually quite delicious, if I do say so myself ─ and _I_ had some of that leftover lasagna."

"Ooh, is there any left?" Hermione asked eagerly, craning her neck. "That lasagna was incredibly good."

Ron ignored Hermione's question again, and kept on talking. "And by the time you got home, Hugo had already been asleep for a few hours, and I had just finished reading Rose _The Night Before Christmas_. She really loves that story. What's up?"

He had turned to look at Hermione, who was giving him something equivalent to her death stare.

"You actually _read_ her that atrocious book?" she said, her voice full of wrath.

"Well, yeah," Ron said, taken aback by Hermione's extreme reaction to his reading of an innocent children's book. "Why? What's wrong with it?"

Hermione made a noise that sounded like "hmph" and said in her most superior voice, "Isn't it _obvious_?"

"Apparently not," he said, trying very hard not to laugh at the look of pure hatred on his wife's face, "or else I wouldn't be asking you, would I?"

"You are unbelievable, Ron," she said with an air of impatience. "Don't you know the _real_ story of Father Christmas?"

"Of course I ─ wait, what? The _real_ story?"

"Yes!" she said ardently. "Of course, the Muggles don't know about it, but when I started out in the Ministry in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, I found out so much about what really happens in the North Pole!"

Ron was silent, so Hermione ploughed on.

"Well, I turns out that Father Christmas is actually this extremely old wizard who's sort of similar to Dumbledore in appearance," Hermione said. "He started out quite poor, very giving, and also very talented, so when he got older and had enough money, he started his own toy-making business, wanting to repay the kindness that others had shown him when he was an orphan living in England."

She made sure Ron was still listening, and then continued.

"He wanted to distribute all these toys to every child in the world who deserved them ─"

"That doesn't seem too bad," said Ron earnestly. "So he wants to give gifts to good kids. What's the problem?"

"I'm getting to that," Hermione said edgily. "Eventually, he decided that the best night to give all these gifts would be the night before Christmas, because of the birth of Jesus and whatnot. That first Christmas Eve, he had all of his presents ready, but then realized that he couldn't deliver all the gifts by himself. So, instead of employing some fellow wizards, this man lures nearly a thousand house-elves to his workshop in the North Pole!"

"Well," said Ron, "I thought that was obvious. Even that story says that Father Christmas has elves that help him in his workshop."

"But these elves aren't making the toys," Hermione said exasperatedly, "they deliver them!"

"What?" said Ron in disbelief. "What…what about those stories that Muggles are told all around the world?"

"It's all a mass cover-up!" she said breathlessly. "Once the Wizarding World got word of what this man, who called himself 'Father Christmas,' was doing, they had to make up this story of a nice man who rode in a sleigh around the world led by reindeer."

"So…everything I read to Rose tonight was a lie?"

"Yes," she stated simply.

"But, why?" questioned Ron.

"They couldn't very well tell the Muggles that there was a wizard who had enslaved thousands of house-elves to deliver presents for him, could they?"

"I guess not."

"Of course they couldn't," Hermione said. "I spent a good part of my first year in the Ministry trying to get these house-elves freedom, or, at the very least, some decent pay."

"It's like S.P.E.W. on a whole other level, huh?" Ron said, half-joking.

"Exactly," she said. "Now do you understand why I can't stand that story? It's all a lie!"

"Okay, I won't read them the story anymore," said Ron, even though he didn't understand what the big deal was: house-elves love to work. But, after being with Hermione for so long, he had finally figured that the best way to stay on good terms with her was to drop an argument before it even began.

"Well," said Hermione, feeling as if her job was completed for the night, "now that that's over, I'm going down to see if I can find the rest of that lasagna."

Before she could even draw her foot from under the covers, a piercing cry rang down the hallway and into Ron and Hermione's room.

"You get the lasagna," said Ron graciously, "I'll get Hugo."

* * *

This is another plot that came to me randomly...during dinner, I was like, "What if Hermione knew about the elves in the North Pole?"

And I'm sorry if the ages of their kids are a little off-- I really wanted Ron to say, "Harry got her knocked up again?"

Please leave me a review and let me know what you think of this little one-shot._  
_


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